Post by johndoe on Nov 26, 2020 18:53:02 GMT -5
-Joe is seen in the back of a prop room. Hundreds upon hundreds of miscellaneous items are littered about. There is another person with them, perhaps the caretaker of this facility. They move along several rows of iconographic set pieces such as masks, backdrops, and statues. Joe is looking for something in particular though.-
“Say uh Mr. Blow. I know your a big shot professional wrestler but you still haven’t told me why you wanted to see my collection…”
-Joe ignores the man. He keeps shuffling forward, sometimes stopping if he noticed something that caught his eye, other times opening boxes. In his usual fashion he would slip random things into his pockets despite it not being of his desire. Every time he did so the shadow of his would write it on a piece of paper.
After reaching the end of seemingly countless aisles Joe sighs.-
“You really don’t have one?”
“Have what sir?”
“A fat suit?”
“A what?”
“A FAT SUIT YOU STOOGE!”
-Instead of the caretaker being taken aback he instead puts a hand on his chin and begins contemplation. A few moments pass but he shakes his head.-
“Well I did have one but a few years bac---”
“YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME YOU WERE AS USELESS AS THE REST!”
-Joe nails the man with his signature “No Effort” before leaving and slamming the door behind himself. As he walks down the sidewalk he begins reflecting out loud.-
“Why is everyone in this world so damn dumb? Why am I the only enlightened and gifted person on this miserable rock? Atlas doesn’t hold a candle to my burden.”
-Joe kicks a few rocks before monologing again.-
“They know what they are doing. Even if I don’t try to win those other idiots will find a way to lose. Jabroni will probably try to give the referee head instead of fight and get himself tossed out. Will end up on his back on the mat since that’s the position he’s the most comfortable in. He may get oiled up before the match just by habit and be too slippery to even cover someone. A true comedy of errors and ignorance that one.
“And Parker? He’s not getting fired if he shows up blasted. Probably will be so hammered by bell time that when he walks out to the ring he’ll fall over and take a nap. Get himself counted out because he’s not a man in control. Not of his vices or his destiny. Or maybe he’ll have a bad dream the night before, shit himself so badly that he ends up in the hospital for dehydration. Fucking pathetic.
“I’m not gonna let them take up all my free time with photo ops and hospital visits just because i signed a contract. Forget that. I got another idea. I will come out of this looking like I always do. The smartest person in the room. I just have to think again…”
-Joe leans up against a sign post and starts some more contemplative thought. Third time's the charm as he gets another crazy idea. He asks some random passersby to use their phones to make a quick call. A few of them ignore him, but one finally relents as he kees walking with them asking over and over. He dials the number quickly and this is the conversation overheard.-
“Hello? This is Blow. I want to meet. Yes. Come on big guy, of course there will be food. My treat. You want me to meet you there? That’s great of course! Simple! Now I know you’re busy so I’ll let you go, but don’t be late asshole!”
-Joe hangs up the phone and casually tosses it into the trash much to the chagrin of it’s owner as he walks off. He digs into his pockets and pulls out a bent cigarette, a lighter, and sets it ablaze. When it pierces his mouth he puts his hands behind his head, smirking, all to the tune of obscenities behind him.-
“Say uh Mr. Blow. I know your a big shot professional wrestler but you still haven’t told me why you wanted to see my collection…”
-Joe ignores the man. He keeps shuffling forward, sometimes stopping if he noticed something that caught his eye, other times opening boxes. In his usual fashion he would slip random things into his pockets despite it not being of his desire. Every time he did so the shadow of his would write it on a piece of paper.
After reaching the end of seemingly countless aisles Joe sighs.-
“You really don’t have one?”
“Have what sir?”
“A fat suit?”
“A what?”
“A FAT SUIT YOU STOOGE!”
-Instead of the caretaker being taken aback he instead puts a hand on his chin and begins contemplation. A few moments pass but he shakes his head.-
“Well I did have one but a few years bac---”
“YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME YOU WERE AS USELESS AS THE REST!”
-Joe nails the man with his signature “No Effort” before leaving and slamming the door behind himself. As he walks down the sidewalk he begins reflecting out loud.-
“Why is everyone in this world so damn dumb? Why am I the only enlightened and gifted person on this miserable rock? Atlas doesn’t hold a candle to my burden.”
-Joe kicks a few rocks before monologing again.-
“They know what they are doing. Even if I don’t try to win those other idiots will find a way to lose. Jabroni will probably try to give the referee head instead of fight and get himself tossed out. Will end up on his back on the mat since that’s the position he’s the most comfortable in. He may get oiled up before the match just by habit and be too slippery to even cover someone. A true comedy of errors and ignorance that one.
“And Parker? He’s not getting fired if he shows up blasted. Probably will be so hammered by bell time that when he walks out to the ring he’ll fall over and take a nap. Get himself counted out because he’s not a man in control. Not of his vices or his destiny. Or maybe he’ll have a bad dream the night before, shit himself so badly that he ends up in the hospital for dehydration. Fucking pathetic.
“I’m not gonna let them take up all my free time with photo ops and hospital visits just because i signed a contract. Forget that. I got another idea. I will come out of this looking like I always do. The smartest person in the room. I just have to think again…”
-Joe leans up against a sign post and starts some more contemplative thought. Third time's the charm as he gets another crazy idea. He asks some random passersby to use their phones to make a quick call. A few of them ignore him, but one finally relents as he kees walking with them asking over and over. He dials the number quickly and this is the conversation overheard.-
“Hello? This is Blow. I want to meet. Yes. Come on big guy, of course there will be food. My treat. You want me to meet you there? That’s great of course! Simple! Now I know you’re busy so I’ll let you go, but don’t be late asshole!”
-Joe hangs up the phone and casually tosses it into the trash much to the chagrin of it’s owner as he walks off. He digs into his pockets and pulls out a bent cigarette, a lighter, and sets it ablaze. When it pierces his mouth he puts his hands behind his head, smirking, all to the tune of obscenities behind him.-